


Guide Me To Home

by Of the League (Serpyre)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, but i hope you like it, don't know where i'll take this, vigilante family team
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-08-05 08:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serpyre/pseuds/Of%20the%20League
Summary: ‘‘She’s not a child, Sara. She’s a seventeen-year-old with a life.’’Or, the one where Nyssa and Sara kinda-not-really adopts a certain vigilante named Evelyn Sharp.





	1. There's This Thing...

‘‘... Uh, Nyssa?’’

She heard the creaking of the pavement as the sound of Sara’s footsteps marched up to her, somewhat more hesitantly than how her Beloved would  _ usually _ do things. Composing herself, she turned around, fearing the worse.

What she saw was the very opposite of what she’d initially expected, to say at the very least. The Demon’s eyes widen as she surveyed the scene laid out before her. To say that she was surprised was an... understatement.

‘‘... Why do you have an unconscious girl in your arms?’’

Sara sighed, eyes darting around warily and troubled as if expecting an opponent. ‘‘It’s a long story. ‘’

Nyssa’s eyebrow arched in question. ‘’Enlighten me.’’

Her Beloved took a deep breath, and wearing a sceptical expression, with her eyes widening in exasperation — started rambling. ‘‘Uh… so basically I was doing my nightly prowl, and… it went well. A little  _ too _ well, in fact. After beating up a few drug dealers and dumping them in the SCPD, suddenly there’s this girl right behind me, and I panicked for a second and the next thing I know, she’s unconscious in front of me. I-I can’t just  _ leave _ her there, you know — because heck, even  _ I _ don’t know what people do in the middle of the night… actually, I do, but-’’

She cut off her Beloved’s rambling with a raise of her  _ other _ eyebrow. Hearing her Beloved ramble was usually most amusing, as it was with Oliver’s beloved, Felicity— who babbled the most unbefitting of words during most unsuitable situations— for example, cracking dirty jokes that even  _ she _ did not understand during missions. However, she’d pick her Beloved’s rambling over Felicity’s anytime... but perhaps not when she had an unconscious girl in her arms. ‘‘Did you remember to turn off your fancy device  _ when _ you actually scream?’’

Sara shrugged. ‘‘Well, no. The entire point of the device is for me to scream and— wait. You’re teasing me, aren’t you?’’

Nyssa exhaled, trying to keep the smirk  _ off _ her face. It had become quite her favourite pastime after picking up some of the words and the definition of it from certain other vigilantes in Star City. _  First things first. _ She surveyed the girl in Sara’s arms. She seemed no older than nineteen, and was wearing some sort of… vigilante outfit. The girl was donning a suit similar to the one of Sara's, but tailored to an archer's needs. What she initially thought was a Canary's mask as it was with the same shape and proportion, upon further inspection turned out to be face paint, out of all concealers a vigilante could use. The paint was dripping— melting if you will— off her face as she dangled unresponsive from Sara's arms. By the looks of it, the hair that used be tied back in a ponytail now flowed freely from where her head lolled.

_ One of Oliver’s new trainees, _ she guessed. She almost snorted at his incompetence. Her Beloved had it constantly known to her that Oliver was, apparently, gathering a band of new recruits, as practically half of his team-members had left him. Sara had it nonchalantly suggested to her that they join his crusade because Oliver could use some ‘skilled people’, she recalled her saying.

After Sara had returned from her time-travelling adventures, they were silently protecting Starling City and had taken extra care not to draw extra attention to themselves— but some wailing would-be-rapists that they’d maimed had reported to Starling General and told them that there were ‘two new vigilantes in town’, and as the result, they had gained some unwanted publicity and made a name for themselves. Since they were quite… successive in their latest exploits, the Green Arrow had it seen that both vigilantes received an invitation to join him in a team, before noticing that one of those said vigilantes was the close-friend that had worked with him and was also once his lover, and the other said vigilante being the previous said vigilantes’ beloved and was married by name to him.

He should’ve known better than let his trainees roam around the city at night, under no supervision.

After a few moments of inspection and probing; ‘‘You aren’t  _ checking _ her out, are you?’’ — she found out that there was no lasting damage done — perhaps a few scratches and bruises there, but overall she was fine.

She turned towards her Beloved. ‘‘Shall we bring her to either that ‘Arrow Cave’ of Oliver’s, to the police department, or…?’’

Before she managed to finish the sentence, Sara had let out a suspicious yelp. She was immediately by her side. Now inspecting her body, she noticed a long, jagged gash that wasn’t there before, blood now starting to bleed visibly through the fabric, still trickling down her leg.

Nyssa cursed, and first took the girl from her Beloved’s arms, and proceeded to set her to the patch of dry floor. After making sure she was safe, she turned back to her Beloved, who was leaning on the wall for support.

''You were reckless.'' She stated, striding towards her and kneeling at her side, now inspecting the wound more carefully.

Sara tried to shrug it off but winced. ‘‘Ow. One of those thugs probably got off a lucky strike. I… may or may not have noticed that it was there before. Uh… can I go home now?’’

Nyssa immediately tore a strip of her cape and wrapped it around her Beloved's injured leg. It wasn’t the best, but she had to stop the bleeding. Pressing the cloth against her wound, she frowned. The cloth had soaked up most of the blood, but just a gash to the side  _ shouldn’t _ be bleeding so much.

Even in this state, she found herself admiring her Beloved. Truly, there was nothing about her that  _ shouldn’t _ be admired but even injured and in agony, she had forsaken her own well-being to bring a strange girl to safety. She doubted that she would have done the same if she were to be put in her shoes.

Her brow furrowed. ‘‘That is a deep wound. Shall we call an ambulance, or seek out for some sort of help?’’ Nyssa never asked, nor used any services that the City had provided. Mainly because it would be a huge blow to her self-respect, but having her actually  _ even _ mentioning it probably meant that this situation was worse than it looked.

Sara made some sort of snorting sound in resistance. ‘‘I’m fine,’’ she mumbled, and tried to get off the wall — but only managing to take a few steps before grimacing in pain. ‘‘Ow. C-can we get back to the Safehouse?’’

The Safehouse was one of the League’s many hideouts, scattered over the globe — in case an Assassin needed a place to stay during one of their long missions. It was mandatory for every city to have at least one Safe House, as there was no way of knowing where they would go next. There was one conveniently placed in the outskirts of Star City — just enough for them to delve in and complete their mission on time, and just not far enough to arouse any outsider suspicions.

They had stayed in there after Nyssa had disbanded the League of Assassins and gave up on her title, and it had been their temporary sanctuary ever since. Sara had liked to call it their ‘hideout’, but Nyssa would often prefer the term ‘home’, though she had never said it out loud.

With Sara’s arm draped over her shoulder, she managed to walk relatively steadily — before her eyes had drawn themselves over to the unconscious girl, still lying on the sidewalk where Nyssa had last placed her.

She debated over if she should bring her along as well. If she was the administrator of the decision, then she wouldn’t have hesitated to leave her there… but she had to take Sara into consideration as well. Sara would never forgive her if she just left her, an unconscious and helpless girl in the middle of the sidewalk, and if a man were to pass…

Sighing, she neared the sprawled-out girl, and with a grunt, lifted her into both of her arms, silently expressing her gratitude for the fact that Sara was still conscious. She staggered away from the alleyway, wondering how comical this scene must look to an outsider — the Heir to the Demon with a half-conscious Canary draped over her shoulder and an unconscious girl in her arms. However, she couldn’t have cared less about her trampled-on reputation right now. Right now, she had to get Sara to safety, back to the Safehouse.


	2. ... That I Have To Talk About

Sara’s vile cursing shouldn’t have come to her as a surprise.

When she’d finally managed to make her way back to the Safehouse, she carefully settled Sara onto the table and the girl onto the couch. Her limbs were screaming from the fatigue, but she managed to keep herself from sprawling on her —  _ their _ — bed.

She’d never felt so mentally and physically exhausted at the same time. After enduring through a tirade of Sara’s colourful language, she had stopped the bleeding and stitched up Sara’s wound. After a tired and sloppy kiss, Sara had passed out. Then, she checked the girl — who was still the same. She idly wondered what frequency Sara had set her device at, and if so, how did her Beloved get so scared that she  _ screamed _ and accidentally activated her Canary Cry, and somehow managing to knock the poor girl unconscious. She knew firsthand how...  _ ah _ ,  _ ear-splitting _ her cry was — without even being magnified by a device.

_ Truly a deadly scream, Beloved.  _ She thought to herself, chuckling without humour. Weariness clung onto her muscles like dead weight, but she didn’t dare to let fatigue claim her — and leave both her Beloved and the girl unguarded, despite the fact that they were in a Safehouse. You could never be too wary.

But she could already feel her body succumbing to the spell of sleep. She stole a glance at them — her Beloved was situated in an awkward position atop the table, but had shown no signs of discomfort — instead snoring silently. Despite herself, she felt a smile wander upon her features — and the girl was still unconscious to the point where she wondered if Sara had knocked her comatose. They were in no state of defending themselves, but nor was she.

Sighing, she shakily made it to their bed, her limbs hanging onto her body like dead weight. Just a little quick rest, and then she’ll wake up and watch over them through the night…

However, her body had different ideas. Once her figure hit the bed, she passed out into deep, tiring sleep.

——

She woke up to the sound of something hitting her.  _ What… _

She groaned and turned over, trying to find her attacker. Her mind was fuzzy, and she couldn’t even register the face of the attacker — let alone remember what had happened. After making sure that her attacker had stopped their rampant attacking, she instinctively pulling the bedsheets aside and folding them into a neat pile, before making her way to the bathroom.

Dazed and groggy, she stumbled around the room. What  _ had _ exactly happened yesterday? Her memory was imprecise, thanks to all her energy being sapped by carrying/limping both her Beloved and the unconscious girl back to their Safehouse. 

Right.

Her mind still muddy and her body on autopilot, she barely managed to do her entire morning routine.

When she came out of the bathroom, she was met with a person with bright blonde hair and a bright smile. Then, she realized it was Sara. Her groggy vision darted to the place where Sara had been wounded yesterday — it was wrapped over with a few bare strips of bandages, no doubt Sara’s sloppy handiwork.

‘‘C’mon, Nys. We made breakfast.’’ She barely managed to register the voice of her Beloved. _ We? _

The question must be evident on her face because Sara let out a weary smile of her own. ‘‘About that… Yeah. Remember the kid I picked up yesterday?’’ Nyssa had to bite back a tired groan. ‘‘She woke up. And we… fought.’’ She winced. Nyssa instinctively scanned Sara for injuries and was relieved to find that there were no visible ones. ‘‘She… um, broke my stitches. But-’’ she added hastily before Nyssa got too enraged and started strangling the kid. ‘‘- I re-stitched them up. With her help.’’ She gestured to the girl on the greyish couch, who was unusually silent. ‘‘Besides, your handiwork’s pretty sloppy anyway.’’

After that, she dropped a kiss on her forehead before Nyssa could even register what she’d just said. Then, she strolled out of the room, leaving Nyssa to herself.

She sighed. Her muscles still ached in dull pain, but thankfully it was much easier to bear than it was yesterday. She stole a quick glance at the girl on the couch, who looked stiff, uncomfortable — as if she felt that she had overstayed, but did not know how to leave. Nyssa made a mental note to talk to the girl after they had finished Breakfast.

She reluctantly followed Sara, who was nearing the antique table that they’ve bought in Saudi Arabia during one of their missions when she said she’d ‘fell in love with it’. Nyssa, amused — immediately purchased the piece of old furniture, and had it shipped to their cottage in Nanda Parbat under the alias of ‘a faraway village’. When the League had been disbanded, Nyssa had initially wanted to leave the furniture, relics, all her inheritances — everything at Nanda Parbat, so to have no tokens of remembrance of her previous life. However, Sara had insisted that they kept the table, though she had never explained to her why so.

The girl seemed conflicted between going to the table or not, even though she had helped with making the breakfast. Catching the look her eye, her Beloved had gestured and whistled for her to come over. The girl seemed as reluctant as Nyssa was when she cautiously neared the table as if they’d put poison in the food.

Sara must’ve noticed both of their reluctance because she clicked her tongue like a mother hen. ‘‘Hey, both of you guys,  _ chill _ .’’ She sent a pointed look at the girl. ‘‘No, there isn’t any poison in the food, and I and you would know because we made it together,’’ and to her; ‘‘Nys,  _ please _ . My food isn’t dangerous… even though I  _ did _ burn the stove the last time I tried to make food… but that’s beside the point!’’ Nyssa let out a tired chuckle and sat next to her Beloved on the table. She would drop a kiss on her Beloved’s lips as a sign of thanks for at least bothering to make Breakfast for them, but seeing that there was a young girl on looking (and Thea teased her that ‘they’ve traumatized enough’, she said), she graciously refrained from doing so.

Instead, she chose to pick up the fork they’ve graciously settled onto the table, and probed the piece of food with it.

Sara narrowed her eyes at her. ‘’Nys, I’ve told you that there’s no poison in it.’’

Sighing, Nyssa poked her fork at the slice of apple beside the pancake, raising her eyebrow at her Beloved in the progress, partially wary of the substance… even if the food was organic, but Nyssa would never know when Sara would decide to pop an apple in the stove again. She swore never to touch trampled fruit again.

Sara scoffed in exaspration, and started digging in into her food. Every now and then, she would excuse herself to spit the food out in the washroom.

Nyssa merely rolled her eyes at her Beloved’s antics, and using her fork as a tool, as if picking apart a dead body, carefully picked apart the food, inspected each and every piece carefully by probing at the piece of nutrient like someone would do when they found an interesting dead bug by the sidewalk, and then nibbling a small corner of the nourishment.

The girl just sat there, unmoving, holding the fork loosely in her hand, but not showing any signs of touching the food laid plainly in front of the table. Nyssa couldn’t blame her for her hesitance. If she managed to suffer through on of Sara’s ‘’cooking sessions’’, she could wholly understand why she couldn’t even touch that piece of food laid innocently in front of her.

After Sara’s sixth not-so-subtle excuse to take a break: it’s that time, she had whispered to her with a scrunched eyebrow, pain written clearly on her features, but Nyssa could detect that the source of her Beloved’s pain was coming via the slow working of the food in her mouth, not from… well, that unfortunate time that all females had to endure through. She found her Beloved’s excuses endearing, but managed to pull a somewhat stoic facade, even if grogginess were gnawing its way onto her features— which was when the girl finally spoke.

‘’I… suppose I owe the both of you thanks for… last night. And an apology for ripping your stitches,’’ she muttered quickly, like she’d wanted to get it done and over with, and Sara wincing at the memory of the misunderstood fight.

Sara’s pained expression relaxed, taking the girl’s genuine words in, whilst the chewing in her mouth slowed to a stop. ‘’Hey,’’ she began softly, understanding the girl’s embarrassment. ‘’No need to thank us.’’ Nyssa almost reminded her Beloved that she was the one who had done most of the work, but she bit her lip.

‘’It is what we do.’’ Nyssa found herself stating firmly.  Sara’s head whipped at Nyssa at surprise and question, because Nyssa, being the Heir to the Demon and all, was raised so to not to question, not to add nor ask whilst growing up in her youth. And so, even if she was the Heir to the Demon no more, those traits remained. Sara was usually the one to start conversations and chat along comfortably to strangers. Nyssa was the one who would just tag along quietly, with little or no participation to the conversations her Beloved held. And that was fine with the people Sara chatted up with. Some had even confessed to her that they found her girlfriend creepy, and it wasn’t a far stretch, with the level of intensity that burned in her dark eyes, and the way her eyes darted around like a demon had possessed her, and with the unnatural way she worded things, (which Sara found romantic) but nevertheless, it shouldn’t have come to Sara as a surprise. Needless to say, Sara never spoke to them again.

But the thing was, Nyssa didn’t mind when Sara’s… well, companions spoke differently regarding Nyssa. She was used to this treatment during her upbringing. Different, because she was the Heiress to her father’s mantle and legacy. Different, because she was raised by royalty, but not without her father looking over her shoulder, wanting her to be his ideal Heir, the assassins judging her of being worthy to rule the League, and her trying and struggling to be unrivalled, to keep the unbeaten spot. Different, because she had always so damn frustratingly believed that she didn’t deserve Sara, didn’t deserve happiness, and she deserved their words because she was the Demon’s Heir, because was a cold murderer, and because she didn’t believe that she deserved even a portion of what she had, (the words her and happiness came to her mind), so she’d kept quiet. Which was why Sara would defend Nyssa for the hell out of her life, because she wouldn’t get the goddamn conscience to do it herself.

Thing was, Nyssa didn’t speak. Even if she did, it was out of politeness or something similar of that fashion. But this seemed… different. The way Nyssa worded it, the vicinity of air she held when she spoke… it felt protective, somehow.

The girl seemed to visibly relax. She loosened her grip on the fork and set her jaw, staring straight into Sara’s eyes, but in a good manner. ‘’I presume that you are the Canary?’’

Sara arched her eyebrow at that statement, but nodded to confirm. Then, with the fork she held in her left hand, she gestured for the girl to continue.

Evelyn bit her lip. It was stupid, really. When the initial idea had formed in her mind, it had seemed logical, somehow. Now when the actual idea of what she was doing hit her hard in the mind, visiting the Canary, someone she didn’t even know, but idolized for more than half of her pathetic life, just for whatever advice or closure she could gain, she felt pathetic embarrassment rise to her features.

But the Canary felt like she was someone that she could confide in, even if she was somewhat of a total stranger. But the thing was, she wasn’t. She had idolized the Canary for practically half of her life. She admired her and her work, bringing justice unto those who had deserved it— when the other vigilantes focused on more, city-threatening enemies, the Canary had always dealt with the street-wise affairs, dealing with the draggers and crooks and hookers alike, ridding the city of the criminals, and keeping the city grounded, keeping the city safe. Making the city home, people no longer wanting to flee in terror because of the criminals that overran the streets, because they know that there’ll be a vigilante waiting to bring injustice to the unworthy, patrolling the city at night and keeping them safe. And even if there were different incarnations of the Canary over time, different people who had taken upon that mantle,  _ herself _ included… well, she recognized  _ this _ Canary as the first Canary from the news, all right.

And as stalker-ish as it sounded, when she put it like that… the Canary didn’t feel like a stranger anymore. She wasn’t like those other vigilantes (The Arrow and some others came to her mind). Whilst they forged outside, on a mission to defeat some looming threat that threatened to bombard the city, the Canary was the one who protected the streets of the actual city that was once so corrupted. And now, when she was the one that prowled the streets of the forbidding night itself…

Sara’s cough bought her out of her thoughts. Sara’s companion, the brunette, raised an eyebrow at her. Evelyn felt red-hot embarrassment make its way onto her face. ‘’So…?’’ Sara prompted.

Evelyn took a deep breath. Well, she was here now, wasn’t she? Besides, she couldn’t chicken out with two pairs of eyes staring questioningly at her. ’’So… I’ve come to ask for advice regarding the Green Arrow.’’

Sara seemed to instantly perk and bristle at the name. Beside her, the brunette scoffed, but it was not directed at her, but more at the Canary herself, and placed a placating/comforting hand on Sara’s shoulder. Evelyn didn’t know whatever vengeance the Canary held to that name, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Sara seemed to soften for a few moments, gazing at the palm on her shoulder, the fire in the pyres of her eyes dying for a few seconds as it was replaced by… something else. Her gaze lingered on the brunette’s placating hand before turning her attention back to Evelyn. ‘’Advice. I totally wasn’t the girl that made a stupid decision to sleep with her sister’s boyfriend and board a ship which changed my life. Totally wasn’t’’

The brunette beside her seemed to smile fondly, if that was even possible. ‘’Ah. However, Beloved, we would’ve never met if it wasn’t for your… stupid choice, as you put it.’’ She ended it with a subtle smirk, removing her hand from Sara’s shoulder.

Beloved. Evelyn probably filled up her quota for ‘’discovering weird new things everyday list’’ today. A world-class assassin romance with the Canary? Why the hell not?

Sara grinned. ‘’Okay, maybe I have improved over time in my decision-making skills. Anyway, what type of advice do you want about the Green Arrow? And more importantly, why would you? If my life wasn’t a testimony of bad decisions, then I don’t know what is.’’

Alright, so maybe this wasn’t as great of an idea as Evelyn had first thought it was. However, she knew for a fact that the Canary worked for the Arrow at least once, and she was… well, more  _ approachable _ than some other certain vigilantes were. ‘’Uh… so the Green Arrow’s invited me to join his team. And I know you have better things to do than this, but please, hear me out.’’ Sara put her fingers by her lips in an attempt to stop the girl from going into a ramble that had an eerie resemblance to Felicity Smoak’s.

After a few moments, Sara spoke. ‘’Alright, slow down for a sec. You sound like you’re rushing an order for Big Belly Burger.’’

Evelyn took a few deep breaths to regulate her breathing and heart-rate. The whirlwind of emotions raging inside of her didn’t help. ’’The Green Arrow wants to take me as his trainee. I’m trying to do good for the city, and even with all this fancy getup— ‘’ she shrugged, ‘’— I know when I’m not improving, and I know when I need a mentor to guide and train me. This is my chance.’’

Sara upturned both of her hands, and stopped Evelyn before she could go any further. ‘’Look, teaming up with the Green Arrow is never a good idea. Know that this is a veteran speaking here. Honestly, you’d be better off with  _ me,  _ and that’s certainly saying something. He’s… a lot of things. His stubbornness is over the world. His whore abilities are certainly not his admirable trait. And he’s a fucking wife-stealer.’’ She growled and dragged the word  _ stealer _ out, and when the brunette let out a soft grunt, a grin was elicited out of Sara, and Evelyn couldn’t help but wonder.

‘’… I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, though.’’ When Evelyn raised an eyebrow in question, Sara sighed. ‘’Nevertheless… he’s a good guy. He’s trying to do good for the city, no matter what it would cost him. He isn’t the greatest vigilante out there, but he’s striving towards it.’’

‘’… I can’t, though.’’

Sara quirked an eyebrow. Maybe she should’ve agreed with the girl, since, technically, training under Oliver was never a decent idea, no matter how dire your circumstances were. But the question rolled itself out of her tongue. ‘’Why not?’’

Evelyn stood silent for a few moments. She knew the line between business and personal very well, and this was treading on the thin boundaries.

But this was the Canary. The sole protector of young women and everyone else that the bigger vigilantes looked over. Her idol, the person she’d looked up to when she shouldn’t. The person that protected them when they were trapped in Dahrk’s testing facilities as lab rats, whilst the Green Arrow yelled for the kill order. The person that actually cared, at least for her it was. And as unusual as it was, she felt… safe around her. She’d never trusted a person implicitly. It left openings, both physical and physiological, especially when you’ve never met that person. But she knew that, if anyone deserved that trust, then it was the Canary.

’’He…’’ she hesitated. She could still back out now, but… ‘’I was captured, along with my parents, by Damien Darhk.’’ Sara winced at the mention of that name, and gripped her knuckles tighter. She didn’t know what vendetta she held towards him, but whatever it was, she was glad for it.

‘’We were held in this… facility. The days came and went. Each was another trail to endure… not knowing if, or when, we were the next to be experimented on with Darhk’s testing chambers. I prayed. I didn’t count the days, but… one day, the Green Arrow paid us a visit.’’

Sara mouthed a quiet  _ oh _ .

‘’I remember being excited, knowing that there was finally, a refuge to this hell. I remember feeling grateful, to whatever gods were out there, thanking them for heeding to my cry. I… I thought he was going to save us, and liberate all the others that were in there with us. But I was wrong. He only left with his Beloved, and left us there to the mercy of Damien Darhk.’’ Her tone was bitter, her gaze averting Sara’s face in a desperate attempt to withhold the spite and the misty substance that was brimming in her betraying eyes.

‘’He left me and my parents to die.’’ Her bitter voice cracked. ‘’I— I know that I should’ve moved on from that, and I would’ve, but I can’t. I want to do good. I want to help this city, to redeem myself, but I can’t, knowing that the person I’ll be working with is responsible for my parents’ deaths.’’

Sara’s features softened. ‘’Hey,’’ she said. ‘’You’re can’t control your emotions; no matter how much people tell you that’s not true. He’s not the greatest guy, like I said. He makes countless mistakes, and I can’t excuse him for it.’’ A mutter:  _ he still has to pay for marrying off my woman. _ The brunette merely scoffed at her amusing antics, but gazed at Sara affectionately.

Sara glanced back at the brunette, adoration clear on her joking features. ’’I know it’s hard, and this is coming from a professional here.’’ A rough chuckle. ‘’But he deserves a chance.’’

Evelyn bit on her lip. She knew she blamed the Green Arrow for her parents’ deaths, held an unwavering grudge of hate towards him because he was the one whom left them there, starving and brainwashed and dying. But people, even heroes had flaws, and this was no less.

However, she couldn’t let go of a grudge that she’d furnished, fueled and burned for so long, so easily. She couldn’t.

She cocked her head at Sara for guidance. Sara didn’t speak, but her profound eyes told her everything that she wanted to know. If you can’t trust the Arrow, then trust me.

Slightly, ever so slightly, Evelyn inclined her head.

Sara nodded with a seriousness that Evelyn couldn’t even begin to fathom, knowing that, from the short span of time she’d known Sara (and especially in the kitchen), seriousness was never a common expression to dawn on the vigilante’s features.

‘’Thank you,’’ she found herself breathing out. She felt elated, relived that she got out something that she’d hid, furnished, brewed and hated in her heart. She was glad, because there was someone that she could confide in, someone that she’d been missing out in her life ever since the world she’d known around her collapsed, knowing that there was someone that  _ cared _ .

Sara broke into a small smile that was unusual for… well, Sara. ’’Anytime.’’

Sara’s companion inclined her head in the slightest, a quiet, welcome empathic gesture.

‘’Thanks for the breakfast,’’ was the last word she whispered out before grabbing her coat and letting the door click shut.

After she had left, Nyssa gazed at Sara inquiringly. ‘’Who is she?’’

Sara’s gaze was wistful. ‘’Nobody you know of.’’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand this chapter was a LOT longer. hopefully the nyssa/sara/evelyn bonding was up to your expectations!
> 
> let me know what you thought! and SUGGESTIONS of course. i raid all your suggestions like cookies in a jar.


	3. That Was A Bad Idea

Okay. So complete breakdown, full disclosure—Evelyn wasn’t expecting to see the Canary when she woke up first thing out of her unconsciousness.

 

It was… surprising to say the very least. The Canary—no longer in mask or her getup, just plain old blonde and blue eyes and grey T-shirt— had peered at her, narrowing her eyes slightly, and before she could speak what sounded like a friendly _hello—_ Evelyn had lashed out a fist, still dazed and all too confused of her surroundings and a hundred percent convinced she was the enemy. 

 

Sara Lance had taken her down in two seconds flat. It was still embarrassing to think about—despite the fact that Sara was the Canary and basically would take _anybody_ down in two seconds flat, Oliver Queen included—but mainly it was embarrassing because Evelyn Sharp didn’t _recognise_ her and just _fought,_ who, by all means, was her one and only idol. Oh, and they’d gone on to make breakfast. It was a bit complicated. Or just plain weird. Evelyn didn’t really feel like it was either then and maybe a bit now though.

 

Anyways. After all that went down, Evelyn had hurried out of the so-called Safehouse, stuffing her hands into her jacket (that Sara had given to her, which she’d taken gratefully), and went back to the Arrow Cave, which, incidentally, no one seemed to notice her leave, so she’d slipped in with them.

 

They’d left her their location in her pocket—so one day, after patrol, she’d decided to come about and go check out the location and see if it was right. And it was. Nearly outside the city, a dingy house in the corridors and all. Evelyn _was_ mostly surprised, mainly because two assassins willingly giving up their location and identity wasn’t really what she’d expected to happen in the assassin rulebook, but then again, they _did_ take her in after she’d fainted and gave her some bandages and breakfast, so they weren’t exactly the most _normal_ of assassins.

 

Anyway. So she’d entered, and was met with Sara chewing on what seemed to be cake, while distinct sounds of arrows clanked from behind. She seemed surprised, which had made Evelyn feel the heat rise to her cheeks and she went to mutter a ‘’never mind’’ and gone to leave until Sara called her back—and so Evelyn had gone.

 

There wasn’t much to do _exactly—_ despite herself, Evelyn hadn’t actually prepared a topic to talk about when she came, which led to a quick exchange back about the Green Arrow:

 

‘’I’ve decided to go for it,’’ she’d said, looking slightly away from the Canary while feeling incensed and unnecessarily embarrassed. Because—who the hell would go thirty minutes just to inform the Canary about an update to a _decision_ that she probably couldn’t care less about?

 

But Sara had whistled thoughtfully and nodded a few times, which led Evelyn to believe that maybe she _did_ care. Maybe. Hopefully.

 

Sara had pressed her lips together. ‘’Interesting choice,’’ she said, while Evelyn looked on anxiously. But then, she had added: ‘’You might want to train a bit before making it completely official though. Oliver’s pretty hard on his recruits.’’

 

Oh, Evelyn knew. Her aching bones was the complaint and the testament to _that_.

 

‘’Wanna train with me?’’ Sara said, shrugging casually like it didn’t matter at all. Like it was going to be completely casual.

 

Like she wasn’t about to give Evelyn a complete and utter beatdown that rendered her shaking on impact and nearly limping back to the Arrow Cave when they were done.

 

 _But_ it was coupled with some things she’d actually _learnt_ from Sara, about fighting and weapons and mechanics and footings and stances, so that helped—Evelyn supposed.

 

‘’Keep your footing steady,’’ Sara had said, after knocking her down for what felt like a hundredth time, but looking at the time, it was probably only the fourth or fifth, which had made things infinitely worse. ‘’Your attacks—and defenses—won’t matter if you can’t stand.’’

 

Evelyn had got up, hefting and with a renewed vigour, before getting beaten back down again. For what felt like the hundredth time. But then again—time.

 

She’d come to train a few times with Nyssa and Sara—usually, getting her ass handed to her and some lectures about her stances and how she could improve on it. But, despite how much she’d told herself, after the dozenth time Nyssa beat her body aching and broken that she was done and wouldn’t come back the next day, she always found herself oddly rounding back to the Safehouse, back for another training session.

 

But that probably wasn’t the best way to describe their sessions. It wasn’t _just_ training sessions. There were also some talks with Sara, about the Green Arrow and some impassioned, annoyed rants about his existence (usually from her, to Sara, which she’d listened with a few nods), some silent sitting on the couch as she stared at the nonexistent TV with Nyssa, and of course, always free refreshments. That was also the main reason why Evelyn wouldn’t want to miss it. Especially when it was fresh and wasn’t leftovers from the dumps.

 

Nyssa would sometimes leave and do ‘’League-related things’’, Sara had said. But Evelyn had also distinctly recalled something about the League breaking up or whatever, and what _League-related things_ was that exactly she didn’t know—nor did particularly care, either. Just assassins doing assassin-y related things with assassin friends. Like one would.

 

So, Evelyn shouldn’t really _have_ been that surprised when she showed up to a training session unprompted and found Nyssa training with another girl there.

 

‘’I want you to meet someone,’’ Nyssa said, nodding once towards Evelyn. Beside her was a girl, who seemed a fair bit incensed, and slightly angry—if her furrowed brow towards Evelyn didn’t say that, then she didn’t know what. ‘’Her name is Talibah.’’

 

Evelyn didn’t really know what to expect. Sure, she saw the girl fight with Nyssa—strong, surefire, fast—before eventually getting beaten down, knew that she could probably know how to kill her sixteen ways of being an assassin and all— and yet her eyes travelled up and down the girl—and was only stopped by Nyssa’s cleared throat.

 

Finally, _finally,_ Evelyn coughed awkwardly and nodded towards her. Nearly stuck out her hand until she remembered she’d kinda-not-really fake-coughed into it. ‘’I’m Evelyn. Hi.’’

 

Talibah didn’t respond, but she seemed fairly amused. ‘’I know. The Demon’s Head has spoken about you,’’ she said, and Evelyn found herself clinging onto her accent—smooth, melodic, tone like Nyssa’s, but a lot younger, raspier—with more innocence, if you’d believe it.

 

Distinctly, in her mind that _wasn’t_ going a bit too fast now came the thought: _She has?_

 

‘’Oh… uh,’’ Evelyn stammered. Which caused a rise of eyebrows from Nyssa, which made Evelyn think that she was supposed to say yes, yes Nyssa did.

 

‘’… yeah…?’’

 

If anything Talibah seemed even more amused. Nyssa raised a brow, which also made Evelyn think that she was supposed to do or say something—maybe, for example, suggest that she wanted to go train with this assassin girl despite the fact that Evelyn knew she would already be beaten sixty ways to the floor before even starting already. 

 

Talibah cocked her head and glanced at her with an intensity which made Evelyn gulp. ‘’Evelyn Sharp. Should we take it onto the mats?’’

 

Evelyn nodded and realised she couldn’t stop her heart from racing. Well, at least it’d be disguised when they started fighting.

 

.

 

Evelyn was pretty convinced that Oliver had an addiction to training. 

 

She should've kind of known all along, honestly. Mostly, her suspicions had stemmed from his almost-too-eager beatdown of the rest of the recruits. And it was confirmed during his sixteenth beatdown of Rene Ramirez and he  _still_ didn't seem to break a sweat

 

Oliver just loved training, didn't he?

 

‘’Evelyn.’’ Oliver said, nodding upwards towards her as Rene slinked away, coughing. ‘’You’re next.’’

 

Oh man. She was not excited for this. At all.

 

Evelyn braced herself, and lifted her fists up, which shook despite how hard she was gripping them at. Oh god. This was not going to be good.

 

Oliver went in with a punch, which Evelyn narrowly avoided as she saw the fist whiz past where her head once was. But she couldn’t avoid the kick to her stomach, and she’d doubled over with a _oof_ as her legs gave out under her with Oliver’s sweep.

 

‘’That wasn’t good,’’ Oliver grunted, as Evelyn jarred to the floor in pain. ‘’You need improvement,’’ he barked at her, as she felt her body ache in pain. ‘’You were too impulsive. You went on the offensive; didn’t bother on the defensive—and left yourself open to attack. Can’t do that if you’re on the field, can you?’’

 

Oliver’s words grated on her ears, and painfully of all, he was right. But as Evelyn closed her eyes and thought about a world where she _wasn’t_ trained by the Green Arrow, and felt her body ache all over, she felt something buzz in her ear.

 

But it wasn’t a buzz. It was a voice.

 

 _Fight,_ it whispered. _This isn’t done yet._

 

‘’Next?’’ came Oliver’s voice as he surveyed the rest of the recruits, all looking like they were at various degrees of being terrified or looking like they felt some stupid bravery in their souls. And Evelyn opened her eyes, and saw him—at the far side of the training mats, gazing at the recruits. His back turned to her. Off-guard.

 

Unprepared.

 

_This is bad idea, Evelyn. Probably the worst one you could come up with. This’ll probably even trump the one where you thought about meeting the Canary just because, and ended up getting knocked out while being distracted out vigilant-ing and convinently finding your way into their house._

 

_Didn’t he tell you something about acting on the spur of your emotions? Being impulsive or something?_

 

Whatever.

 

Evelyn charged.

 

Oliver had looked back at the last second, as her fist came flying to his chest. But that last second was enough for him to take her fist in his hand, and using that momentum threw her onto the floor. It jarred her back, and she let out an audible groan in pain, as he loomed above at her.

 

_Bad idea. What’d you say about that?!_

 

But Evelyn’s eyes flickered from above, to the side, and then she realised—

 

Oliver’s footing was unbalanced.

 

Without a moment’s hesitation, nearly on an impulse, Evelyn pushed an arm up despite its protests and swept her legs under the Green Arrow’s legs. She didn’t expect it to work. But in spite of it all— _or despite of it all—_ he fell.

 

He crashed to the floor with nothing so much as a grunt, his arm taking the brunt of the impact. And for a moment—the entire Arrow Cave was stunned into silence.

 

That exact silence that made sense knock back into Evelyn.

 

_What was I thinking?_

 

Evelyn closed her eyes, feeling red rise to her cheeks despite how much she wanted it to not exist. After a few more dreaded moments passed, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She opened them to find Oliver’s hand, extended out to her—like an olive branch.

 

And despite herself, Evelyn took it.

 

Oliver narrowed his eyes at Evelyn as she got back up. Still gruffly, he brushed himself off. ‘’Did you tag me?’’

 

Evelyn shrugged. Despite the fact that her mind was going into overdrive and that she felt sweat on her brow, which she casually wiped off with a flick.

 

Of course she didn’t respond. She wasn’t stupid.

 

Oliver stared at her for a few moments, until he cleared his throat to address her. ‘’Still impuslive. You can do better.’’ And then, he turned back towards the rest of the recruits, who stared at both her and Oliver like they were a duo of mythical creatures. ‘’Who’s next?’’

 

As much as she didn’t want to admit it—Oliver was right. It _was_ impulsive. But for some reason, Evelyn felt better than she would’ve if she hadn’t done it at all, as she rounded back and plopped on a seat to watch Wild Dog take on Oliver this time about.


	4. Again...

After beating down all the recruits and not breaking a sweat, and after they’d all left, gone to their own places and devices, Oliver rounded near where Felicity was in front of the computers and asked: ‘’Anything new on Church? Or Prometheus?’’

 

She’d shaken her head. ‘’Nothing. Precinct’s been quiet. Think this might be one of those rare days where nothing happens in Star City! Which, we both know, does _not_ exist.’’

 

Oliver kept in a mental sigh and looked away. Turned back towards the training mats—and his training sessions with the recruits echoed in his mind.

 

There wasn’t anything he hadn’t already analysed about the recruits already. Wild Dog was reckless—reckless, fast, and brutal—or attempted to be. Curtis was careful—favouring swift dodges and some elegance, combined with a few manoeuvres and techniques, but he could go in for hard blows when they needed it. Ragman was strong with his rags but absurdly weak without them. He could still hold his own—for, maybe about a few seconds until his inadequacy and slight incompetence set in.

 

As for Evelyn…

 

Evelyn Sharp was an unusual case. She’d filled all the criteria he had in mind for her beforehand—reckless, suspectible to anger, blind punches and fury that seemed more intent on beating down the opponent with whatever means was possible than actually, say, dodge the blows or to calcluate a strategy to take them down. Just blind attack—and she had fit that criterion to a glove, but there, within all the anger and rage, had something else mixed into it as well.

 

Something that shouldn’t _have_ been there before. Something with technique—something that wasn’t blind fury or attack. Something—dare he say it?—with a hint of elegance.

 

It wasn’t elegant, all right. Barraging into someone and tackling them down because they were mad. But the latter move—sweeping someone’s feet and curling it under? That was familiar, and that… that was something blind anger couldn’t do for you.

 

Oliver was suspicious. Evelyn had not only managed to tackle him—but nearly took him _down_. And though it was a usual move, all right, albeit slightly clumsy and awkward—it was still a move he recognised. It was a less-advanced, far less skillful move of another version which he’d been taught.

 

A move of the League.

 

It could mean a lot of things. It could mean that Evelyn had a background in the League—which was highly unlikely, and he was quite certain wasn’t true. Because firstly, she was still a teenager—and though he didn’t doubt the fact that the League probably had taken in—or rather, kidnapped—children and teenagers for their crusade, it wasn’t as if Evelyn would’ve hopped over in the League to train for a bit before returning to Star City for the sole reason of trying to ‘’beat him up’’. Especially given the fact that League-trained would’ve at least had a _chance_ against him, and when there was only a hint of it in Evelyn. So it wasn’t the League.

 

Perhaps Evelyn had gotten lucky. Oliver would not rule that out yet, but that technique was _specific._ Specific to the League. And though she could’ve been clumsy and accidentally tested a League-like move, he was quite certain that that wasn’t it—or rather, wouldn’t want to believe that that was it.

 

What would it mean, however, was that somebody—or someone was training Evelyn Sharp—and with the two assassins in town? One his friend and one his past… wife, it wasn’t that hard to connect the dots together. Putting two and two.

 

Nearly rubbing his forehead, he let out a sigh, which had startled Felicity. _Sara Lance,_ he thought. _What are you up to now?_

 

…

 

‘’ _Again_ !’’ Nyssa yelled, as Evelyn jarred painfully to the floor. She nearly felt a groan escape her, until she shut up because that would probably mean _another_ beating up session from the said assassin. Which, though was what she came her to perciesly do, wasn’t exactly healthy for her pretty-sure what was broken up limbs and all too tired sockets.

 

 _Okay. Just keep going. Keep going until you’re too tired to continue anymore,_ her psyche urged her on.

 

 _I am too fucking tired to continue on,_ was what her too tired, irrational side argued back. _Fuck this thing._

 

 _Like you can get out of it,_ it replied, and if it had a face then Evelyn was pretty sure it would be smiling. _C’mon. This is a world-class assassin you’re facing. Do you think she’ll let you off of the hook so easily?_

 

Alright. As much as Evelyn hated to admit it, her psyche was right. This was a world-class assassin after all, and that meant that she would probably _not_ let her off the hook by any means possible. And especially added onto the fact that Evelyn was barely trained, which meant that she was barely ready, added to the fact that the said world class assassin was _not_ going to let her off the hook.

 

Also, she still needed to get trained up enough to at least stand a chance against Oliver Queen so she could beat the hell out of him in the coming near-future for basically leaving her family for _dead._

 

 _Wow_ , she thought to herself. _That took a dark turn pretty quickly._

 

However, she ignored it, and with a heft, she got up. Nyssa looked at her with a slight quirk of her lips—was it admiration? At her resilience?—but without another word, she had nodded at Evelyn—and Evelyn braced herself for the blows that were to come.

 

About ten seconds later, Evelyn was on the mats again, bones aching, pain resounding in her head, and upon a complete evaluation as to _why the heck_ was she doing this again.

 

Nyssa nodded up to her, and Evelyn felt her muscles scream in protest. _Again?!_

 

Fufilling her worst nightmares, the words that came out of Nyssa’s lips were exactly that.

 

Another beatdown came. The word _again_ was sounded. Another getting-up. Another beatdown _again._ And _again and again and again._

 

After the training session, Evelyn had decided that her new most-hated word(s) was not Oliver Queen anymore _._

 

‘’Again,’’ Nyssa had said, still nodding up to her with an assassinlike regality, and it was all Evelyn could do not to cry what her bones were already crying for.

 

‘’I—‘’ Evelyn faltered, as she offered a sideways smile, which, sadly, had ached her cheekbones, as with a wince and a heft, she tried to push herself up. ‘’—probably have to go now.’’

 

Nyssa only frowned. ‘’Where will you go, Evelyn Sharp? I do not believe that you are of age to be legally registered to a place of residence in this city.’’

 

Evelyn only offered a wry smile. ‘’I have my ways,’’ she supplied, and didn’t add further.

 

Nyssa’s frown seemed to deepen slightly, but thankfully, she didn’t question on—only turning to the side, as in that same moment, Sara Lance had sauntered through. ‘’Hey,’’ she had said with an easygoing smile, waving at Evelyn, as Evelyn held up a hand back (not in a wave though. A wave would’ve hurt too much.)

 

Then, she had pecked Nyssa on the lips, which seemed to have amused the assassin and also lifted her mood. ‘’Hello,’’ she had replied in a melodic Arabic-ish accent, which had elicted a laugh out of Sara and another kiss—and Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, because was that— _was_ that a slight _blush_ from the world-class assassin?

 

It was like they had forgotten she was here, because they seemed like they were dancing to their own tune. And it was slightly awkward, because Evelyn was on the brink of wondering if she should clear her throat to remind them that yes she existed or should she just get the hell out before they did something… else while convinently forgetting that she existed?

 

Both options didn’t seem to work out very well, not for her brain and especially not for her aching bones. All in one, it was sort of uncomfortable watching the assassin who had beat you down maybe two ways to hell immediately soften and kiss her lover.

 

So finally, Evelyn decided that she should probably just sneak out of the Safehouse before she regretted ever living life. So that was exactly what she did—snuck out of the Safehouse, and left the two assassins to their… devices and themselves.

 

…

 

Her house was not in good condition.

 

Evelyn sighed, as she looked over her apartment. It was a complete mess—despite how hard she tried to keep it clean. She knew that the rent was going to run out in a few days—and honestly? Evelyn had no idea what she was going to do, but hey, she’d cross the bridge when it came to that, right?

 

After her parents had died, and left her with their house and an ongoing lease, she thought it was going to be fine. Maybe. Sort-of. Until she realised that the rent was going to run out and that the only reason _why_ she wasn’t evicted yet because no one bothered to check the remnants or the fact that her parents were _dead,_ or to discover the fact that their daughter was living in the apartment all alone—because the rent was already being paid for, before it had to be renewed in two days— which meant that no one bothered to check anytime before that.

 

And the rent was going to run out. And problem number one arose—Evelyn Sharp had no money. Sure, she could ask Oliver Queen for it, but then he’d look at her like she was some sort of _charity case_ or worse, invite her to stay at his _home,_ which, no thank you, even her run-down apartment would be infinitely better than staying at her parent’s murderer’s _mansion._ Secondly, yeah, maybe she could ask to live at the two assassins’ Safehouse, but there was the thing about her not… _really_ knowing Sara or Nyssa, because heck, they just came together to train Evelyn while maybe teaching and talking about a few things of their lives and Oliver Queen and that was it—and there was always the thing about it being _two assassins_ and maybe not too healthy or safe for her well-being. Especially with the training sessions, always prominent and located next-door. Yeah, certainly not the greatest idea. And the last option? Well, it was probably the worst of the three, which was that she was gonna go live into a _foster-care system._ Which would seriously mess up her vigilante habits, and would just be bad for her in general. She didn’t need authorities telling her what was right and what was not or when to sleep and when to eat breakfast or wake up and blah blah blah. It was fucking stupid and Evelyn was done with it ages ago.

 

Anyway. It basically meant that Evelyn had to find a solution, and find a solution _quick._ After all, she only had two days, and she certainly didn’t _want_ to be the only one present when the guy that rented her house to her parents showed up, and found out that her parents were dead, their daughter was living in here, and surprise surprise—she had no money!

 

Evelyn sighed, and plopped herself on an armrest. Things were going to be hell the next few days, and certainly won’t be going well for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long awaited update! I will be updating most of my fics around this week, stay tuned (if any of you read any of my other stories) :P
> 
> I'm not sure if I can abide by an update schedule for this fic, but I've written out some scenes for this fic which I hope to incorporate into the future already, as well as a rough storyline, so I wouldn't be leaving you guys hanging for too long. Thanks and I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought and if you'd like me to continue this! (Definitely tell me if you want me to continue it lol) — because I have something of an idea of where this's going to go — this is going to be an interesting ride haha.
> 
> Thank you for reading and yeah. We'll see how this goes.


End file.
